


A Philosophy of Peace

by Vinnocent



Series: Heroes and Wolves [13]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Death, F/M, Kidnapping, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinnocent/pseuds/Vinnocent
Summary: As the darach continues killing, the Chee become more of a hindrance than a help as they begin hiding their own victims. Meanwhile, Lydia struggles with her death-detection ability, and Allison comes into conflict with her grandmother.
Relationships: Jennifer Blake/Derek Hale
Series: Heroes and Wolves [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/117640
Kudos: 2





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so it turns out some of yall are reading through my old fics to keep yourselves occupied during quarantine. I'm really happy that people are still finding joy in my work. As I've stated in other places, I won't be returning to writing new fic or continuing old fic anytime soon. I currently suffer from chronic sinusitis, chronic back pain, depression (medicated, but it's still there and affecting things), I'm a homemaker for a family of four, and my wife and I are desperately trying to make our business make money because we're considered "unemployable." Simply put, while I enjoy writing fic and kind of miss it, I just don't have the time or energy to do that much work for free anymore and I literally can't afford to.
> 
> BUT the people reading THIS fic are lucky. I had a lot more chapters posted to Tumblr which should be migrated here as it is an old account and only a matter of time before Tumblr cleans it up. While I didn't technically finish the series, I did outline the entire thing, so my last post on this series will be the rest of the outline as well as some extras, so you'll at least get to know what happened. :) Adding these materials to AO3 was an "eventually" project, but I'm currently sick off my ass with a sinusitis flare up, so I'm gonna see what I can get up until my face calms down, as I really can't do anything else right now.
> 
> One last thing: What you're getting here is pretty unedited. I'm just ganking text and throwing it onto AO3. Sorry about that and please be kind.
> 
> If you want to help support us, my new Tumblr is thewitchwives, our store is WitchPlz.ca, and my email is mrsjesspg (a) gmail . com - Be aware that reaching out is not going to suddenly make me more available for new fanfic. But I do genuinely love yall and want you to enjoy the stuff I already made for you :)

Scott drove up to the school on his bike only seconds before Stiles did. Stiles’s breaks screamed, and he was scrambling out of the Jeep as soon as it was parked. “Where is she?” he demanded.

“Over here!” Allison called.

They turned, saw the girls, and hurried over to them. “Lydia?” asked Stiles.

She shook her head, looking shaken. “It’s the same thing,” she said. “Same thing as the pool. I got into the car, heading somewhere totally different, and ended up here.” She shrugged nervously. “And… you told me to call you if there’s a dead body.”

“What?!” Stiles demanded, alarmed. “You found a dead body?!”

“Not yet,” she admitted.

“Not yet?” he repeated, incredulous. “What do you mean ‘not yet’? Lydia, you’re supposed to call us _after_ you find the dead body.”

“Oh no, I’m not doing _that_ again,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “ _You_ find the dead body from now on.”

“How are we supposed to find the dead body?” Stiles demanded. “You’re _always_ the one finding the dead body.”

But Scott was already looking off in the distance. “Uh… Lydia?” he asked. When she turned to him, he pointed. “Is… Is _that_ the dead body?”

– –

Deputy Graeme was irritated, to say the least. “Stiles, I thought you said there was a dead body,” she snapped.

“Uh…”

“This is not a dead body, Stiles,” she said. She threw her arm wide to gesture emphatically to the sparking metal mess lying on top of the Beacon Hills High School sign.

“Well…” Stiles struggled. “In all fairness… I didn’t call _you_.”

Deputy Graeme looked like she wanted to hit him. She crossed her arms. “Stiles, do you know the difference between murder and property destruction?” she demanded.

He squinted at her. “Uh… One involves a dead body?” he guess.

“One does involve a dead body,” she confirmed.

“Tara!” They all turned to see Sheriff Stilinski jogging up to meet them. “Tara, I… I am /so/ sorry,” he apologized, shooting his son a warning glare. “I’ll deal with this. I promise.”

Deputy Graeme glanced between them. Finally, she sighed and uncrossed her arms and shook her head. “This shit you’ve been pulling lately, Stiles?” she said. “It’s beneath you. And I really wish you’d grow up and realize that.” She turned and left.

They watched her go. Then, the sheriff reached out and tapped his son on the back of the head. “Ow!” Stiles objected.

“‘There’s been another death’?” the sheriff demanded angrily. “Would it kill you to be more specific?”

“Well, there _has_!” Stiles insisted.

The sheriff started to argue, but then he just released it all in a helpless huff. He glanced at the dead Chee on the sign. “I know that,” he said finally. “I know. But… I’m sorry, guys, but the law does not recognize _this_ as murder. If you can tell me who it is… their human identity, I mean, then at _least_ I can investigate it as a missing person.”

Scott nodded. “I’ll call Deaton,” he said. “See if he can help.”

The sheriff nodded. “I appreciate it,” he said, and Scott moved away from the group to make his call. The sheriff turned back to the remaining teenagers. “Why were you out here in the first place?” he asked.

Allison and Stiles both turned to look at Lydia at the same time. She squirmed and made a face. “I… find dead bodies,” she confessed.

“What do you mean you find dead bodies?” the sheriff demanded.

“I don’t know!” Lydia cried. “I just… It’s been happening. Somehow. Since Peter Hale attacked me. I just… I take a drive and end up where a dead body is.” She gestured to the sign. “Though, this is my first dead robot.”

“Okay,” said the sheriff. “That’s not going on the report.”

“Peter…” Allison muttered thoughtfully. She turned to the sheriff. “Peter was arrested for the murders he committed as a werewolf by CBI. After we captured the twins, CBI took them, too. So that means people higher up know, right?”

The sheriff shrugged helplessly. “I guess?” he said. “There’s a special agent from the FBI on the way to oversee the investigation. I’ll have to find a way to ask when they get here. Which… I am not looking forward to.”

“A special agent?” Stiles repeated. “Dad, that’s _great_! When are they getting here?”

“In a few days, I think,” he said.

“ _A few days_?!” Stiles repeated. “Dad, there are murderers happening _now_!”

“I know that, Stiles!” the sheriff snapped. “ _Everyone_ knows that.”

Scott returned to the sheriff. “Deaton says he believes, based on Cheenet information, that this is Chee Sodol, who had the identity of a security guard named Adrian Belmonte,” Scott told him. “He also said that the Chee will handle the remains if you want. Just call.”

“A security guard? The guardian sacrifices?” guessed Allison.

Sheriff Stilinski shook his head. “According to Vela, ‘philosophers’ is next,” he said.

“I thought we were still on healers,” said Lydia. “Because Scott saved Deaton?”

The sheriff shook his head. “No, another doctor was killed a few hours later.”

“Qezek planned for Deaton to be saved?” asked Allison.

Scott shook his head. “He’s not sure,” he admitted. “But he says it’s worth noting that what would take a human hours or days to premeditate and arrange would take a Chee only a second.” He motioned to his head. “’Cuz, y’know, super advanced processors and stuff.”

“Isn’t philosophizing a big theme with Chee?” asked Stiles. “Like, they seem to be in a constant state of ‘what is the most best thing to do for absolutely everyone no matter what else’, right?”

“At least two more Chee may die,” said Lydia, staring at the small body displayed on the sign with wide eyes.

The sheriff turned to Scott. “Warn Deaton,” he ordered. “They need to know to get to safety.”

“I… I will,” said Scott. “But… I don’t think they will. The way Deaton explained it to me, the Chee are required to save _all_ lives, as many as possible, at _any_ cost. And if that cost includes them…”

The sheriff nodded. “If they think it will save humans from being sacrificed, then they’ll let the darach kill them,” he realized.

“Then why did Deaton call Scott to save him?” asked Lydia.

“He didn’t actually expect me to succeed,” Scott admitted. “He wanted to expose the Chee secret to me so that maybe I’d have the clues I needed to keep fighting the darach.”

“So it’s up to us to save them,” said Allison.

“Okay, but…” Stiles started. “I feel like it’s important to ask ourselves… should we?”

“ _What_?” Lydia demanded.

“Look, I like these guys, too,” said Stiles. “But if they _want_ to throw themselves to the monster so humans don’t end up chow… Is it bad to let them?”

“Yes, Stiles,” Scott snapped. “It is bad. It is bad for people to be murdered. I’m not letting _anyone_ die. Not human. Not Chee. Not werewolf. _No one._ ”

The sheriff sighed and rubbed his temple wearily. “Scott…” he said quietly. “I agree. Stopping this ‘darach’ is priority one. But… when it comes to acceptable losses…”

“ _There are no **acceptable** losses!_” Scott cried angrily.

“These things aren’t always so clear-cut,” the sheriff insisted.

“They are!” Scott argued. “No one else is dying!” He stormed off back toward his bike. “I don’t care if I have to fight it myself!”

“Are we sure _he’s_ not a Chee?” the sheriff asked Stiles, who only shrugged.

– –

“I heard about the recital tonight,” Chris Argent said, sitting on the edge of his daughter’s bed the next morning. “The thing to honor the losses at school?”

From beneath her comforter, Allison replied, “The were murders, Dad. Not losses.”

“But your friends will be there, right?” Chris pressed.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Want me to take you?” he offered.

“I don’t think I’m feeling up for it,” she said.

“Okay,” Chris said. He eased off her bed. “I get it.” He went to the door, then paused there. “Take as many days as you need,” he assured her before shutting the door again.

As soon as the door shut, Allison pulled her comforter aside and hopped out of bed fully dressed. She headed to the closet and pulled out the case she kept her Chinese ring daggers in. She began to remove one when she heard a sound.

Slowly, she peeked out of her closet and into the bedroom. Her eyes landed on the open window. She remembered how very easily Scott used to sneak back and forth out of that window. She was certain she could see the tiniest hint of a shadow just barely reaching the edge of the window frame.

Quietly, she snuck up. She stood next to it for a moment, listening. Then, in one swift move, she shoved the window pane the rest of the way up, reached outside, pulled her intruder inside, and perched on his stomach with her dagger at his throat.

“WHOA!” Boyd objected, eyes wide in terror.

Allison was not amused. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Y-you weren’t at school,” he answered. “Please don’t use that.”

Allison didn’t yet move. “Scott send you to check up on me?” she asked.

“Well… he had a point,” Boyd said. “You don’t _look_ sick.”

“Allison?” came Agrona’s voice as the doorknob turned.

Allison hissed a swear as she hopped to her feet, pulled Boyd up, and shoved him in the closet just before Agrona stepped inside. “Yes, grandma?” she asked.

Agrona eyed her suspiciously. “You dressed quickly,” she observed.

“I thought it might make me feel better,” Allison lied.

“And the ring dagger?”

“It’s my lucky ring dagger,” Allison lied again.

Agrona nodded, looking mildly amused. “Well, I came up here to tell you that your father is about to head out to the office, and I’m on my way to Riverside for a few days,” she explained. “Since Tyler took the job at the school, I’ve taken on some of her caseload.”

Allison nodded. “Okay,” she said.

“You think you’ll be alright home alone for the day?” Agrona asked with a smirk.

Allison swallowed. “I think I can manage,” she said.

Agrona nodded. “Alright then.” She headed out the door, and Allison sighed in relief, reaching for the knob on the closet door. Suddenly, the bedroom door opened again. “Oh, and Allison?” Agrona said.

Allison’s hand flew back to her side like the knob had been on fire. “Yes, grandma?”

“Please feel free to inform your friend in the closet that we have a front door and that he is welcome to use it,” Agrona told her. She laughed, then, at Allison’s beet-red and horrified face, and explained, “You are _not_ my first teenaged hunter, Allison. Have fun!”

Finally, she closed the door and walked away.

Boyd peeked out of the closet at the bedroom door. Then, he turned to Allison. “That’s your grandmother?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Allison.

“She’s kind of cool.”


	2. part 2

“I thought you already figured out the telluric currents?” said Boyd, looking down at the map on the desk.

“Well, Dad did,” said Allison. “And Grandma explained it to me. But the thing is, Dad can’t go to the police with this because it’s pseudoscience. Even if I convinced him that the sheriff would believe him, Mr. Stilinski can’t use this as evidence. So Dad thinks we can use it to show up at the body sites after someone goes missing. Hopefully, fast enough to prevent death.”

Boyd rubbed at his jaw. “Yeah, but just the other day, we had two Deatons,” he remembered. “The real Chee that we’re used to, and a different Chee who acted as his holographic replacement while he recovered.”

Allison nodded. “The security guard turned up for work today, too,” she informed him.

Boyd winced and shook his head. “If they keep doing that, your dad won’t know there’s anyone to look for, and Stilinski won’t be able to investigate them as missing persons,” he said.

“I think it’s their programming,” Allison said. “Their whole ‘non-action’ stance? I think they have to replace each other for fear that their deaths will incite more violence. Especially knowing that the darach already knows what’s up with them. They would sacrifice _anything_ for their version of peace.”

“Does your dad know where the next one will be?” asked Boyd.

Allison lifted her UV light to show the secret markings on the map and pointed to a spot on the board. “This one’s new,” she told him.

“Well, I assume by your shoes and weapons that you’re ready to go there now?” Boyd asked.

Allison raised an eyebrow at him. “My shoes?” she repeated.

Boyd pointed down just in case she forgot which pair was wearing. “Whenever Erica wears shoes like that, it’s to kick someone’s ass,” he explained.

“Hm,” said Allison. She thought about that for a moment. “Doesn’t she always wear shoes like these?”

Boyd shrugged. “My point is… what’s the plan?”

Allison turned off her UV light and smirked at him. “You saying you’re in?” she asked.

Boyd shrugged again and explained, “As a general rule, if someone cares enough about you to die in your place, like these Chee would do, you should probably not let them.”

– –

Jennifer Blake turned around and dropped her notebooks when she saw Derek Hale standing in her doorway. “Derek!” she cried. She hurried over to him. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I’d heard there’d been a fight! I was worried… You weren’t answering my calls.”

“I… had a lot to think about,” he confessed quietly. Then, he looked at her strangely. “You heard there was a fight?”

She glanced aside nervously. “Students usually aren’t quite as quiet and secretive as they think they are,” she admitted.

Derek made a noise of irritation. “Boyd, Erica, and Isaac,” he grumbled.

Jennifer bit her lip, trying to keep her smile from showing. “I thought you didn’t know her?” she reminded him.

“We’re not close,” he said, and she laughed.

She walked over to him, leaned close, then reached past him and shut the door before taking a step back again. “You know, Derek…” she said shyly. “If there’s anything you want to tell me…”

Derek swallowed and reflexively reached behind him for the doorknob.

“Or we could just make out,” she said quickly.

He put his hand down again.

– –

Lydia only realized that she was standing outside the history classroom when a piece of chalk rolled across the floor and hit her shoe. Curious, she looked down at it, then picked it up.

She found herself drawn to the blackboard, where five circles had been drawn in a geometrical, flower-like arrangement. She reached out with the chalk and wrote, in the right-most circle, the number two.

And then she **screamed**.

“Lydia!”

She snapped out of it and spun to see the history teacher, Mr. Westover staring at her in shock. She looked at him, then at the blackboard, and she felt a gnawing certainty. “You are _not_ Mr. Westover,” she snapped angrily. “ _Where_ is Mr. Westover?!”

– –

“Deaton, _please_ ,” the sheriff was begging, leaning on the front counter of the veterinary clinic. “This darach is targeting your people now. This is the most well-defined group we’ve ever been able to tell to get the hell out of the way, and yet you _refuse_ to do so!”

“The category is ‘philosophers,’ Sheriff,” Deaton explained patiently. “Not ‘Chee.’ If we were to become unavailable targets, Qezek would simply move on to a suitable human.”

“But it might at least delay–!”

“No offense, Sheriff, but it would be impossible for any tactic of yours to delay a Chee for an extent of time which you consider to be significant,” said Deaton. “That is to say, a Chee can out-process the height of human tactical genius in mere milliseconds. She would not delay.”

Stilinski shook his head, jaw set and determined. “There has got to be a way!” he insisted.

“Sheriff, please,” Deaton attempted to reassure him. “We are happy to die to further peace.”

Stilinski looked at him strangely. “No, you’re not!” he snapped.

Deaton was taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not,” he repeated. “I was there when you were dying. You didn’t want to. You yourself admitted that experiencing mortality was so revolutionary as to cause an epiphany for you. It warped Qezek. And I bet it has to do with the decisions made by Morrell and King, doesn’t it? When your Pemalites were dying, you were so desperate to save them that you invented _dogs_.

“You don’t want to die. Nobody wants to die. You just want to prevent your death less than you want to prevent the deaths of others,” said the sheriff. “Well, guess what? You’re not the only ones who feel that way. You’ve inserted yourselves into our lives, and you think you can throw that away for our sakes? You think we wouldn’t do that for you? You think there aren’t people here that would fight and die just to make sure that what happened at the bank never happened to you again?”

Deaton’s gaze dropped, absorbed in thought, so the sheriff continued, “Now, here’s a truly revolutionary thought: What if instead of sniping over who gets to throw themselves in front of who, we actually work together to try to make sure _no one_ dies?”

“That’s… a valiant goal,” Deaton said carefully, meeting the sheriff’s gaze again. “But… I am not certain how obtainable it is.”

The sheriff groaned and rubbed his neck. “Alright,” he said. “Fine.” He pulled away from the counter but didn’t yet leave. “But you know,” he said, “while you’re mulling that over in your superspeed processor, maybe you can consider this, too. Maybe you can take a moment to picture what Scott’s face is going to look like when he finds _another_ dead Chee.”

– –

Allison sighed as she put the car in park just outside of the abandoned powerplant. “This is the last usable site in the zone he marked,” she said.

Boyd frowned uncertainly. “Maybe we should call for backup. Get Isaac and Erica? Maybe Scott?” he suggested.

“Yeah,” she said. She opened her door and got out. “You do that.”

Boyd rolled his eyes and got out as well. He followed her into the powerplant. After driving around all day, the sun was now setting, and the plant had an eerie, half-lit glow to it. “Stupid time to ask this question,” he muttered quietly, “but if the darach attacks us, do we really think we can defend ourselves?”

“We’ll have to,” said Allison.

“That’s not a ‘yes,’” he pointed out. Suddenly, he reached out to stop her as he tilted his head sideways.

“What?” she hissed.

“I hear…” Boyd continued listening carefully. “Buzzing.” He pointed ahead of them. “ _Maybe_ that way? It’s kind of bouncing.”

Allison pushed out her arm to put him safely behind her as she moved forward, and Boyd snorted derisively. “Are you serious?” he demanded. “Even if I was still human, I’d be stronger than you.”

“But less trained,” she insisted. She motioned for him to be quiet and moved forward slowly.

“Allison,” Boyd hissed again. “I think this is a bad–“ He was interrupted by a crash so loud that, for a moment, he thought the building was about to fall. It was followed by a brilliant yellow flash. Allison threw him to the floor.

When it was over, they looked up and saw it. Dead ahead of them. The battered, peeled, and exposed form of Chee Qezek. Terrified, Boyd grabbed Allison’s bicep and prepared to pull her away, to run.

“STAY DOWN!” a voice screamed from behind them, and suddenly a spray of gunfire burst through the air over their heads. But Qezek had already fled.

Tyler raced past, trying to follow it, but when he reached the end of the room, he couldn’t figure out where it had gone. “ _Shit_!” He turned back to them. “That fucker moves _fast_.”

Agrona stepped between Boyd and Allison. “It’s safe to stand now,” she said, and, slowly, they got to their feet.

“I thought you were in Riverside,” Allison said quietly.

“Shut up,” snapped Agrona. “You don’t think I’m allowed _one_ small lie with all the ones you’ve been feeding me since I got here? You cannot _fathom_ how pissed I am right now!”

“AGRONA!” Tyler poked his head out of the room at the end of the hall. “You need to come see this!”

“Who is it?” Agrona called back, not yet moving.

“It’s not a who!” Tyler answered. “It’s a _what_!”

“What?” Agrona hurried to the room, and Allison hurried after her. Boyd, having a lick of sense, stayed a good ten paces behind them. The room was sweltering hot, and the panels were slightly melted along the surface. In the middle of the circle was the lower half of a Chee, attached to a large weight. Hanging above them was the rest of it. Both halves had been well-burned however, and it was barely recognizable.

Tyler walked around it, fascinated. He didn’t really seem to care that the hot floor was making the rubber soles of his shoes stick. “I see the remnants of ignition switches,” he said, pointing above and below. “I think the break itself triggered the thermite ignition. The panels were probably for depowering it.”

“A three-fold death for a robot?” said Agrona. “Why? I thought this ritual required blood.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about magic, but this tech is amazing,” Tyler said standing over it. “We’d never harvested anything remotely like it before. I doubt I could even hope to reverse-engineer it even if it was intact. I wonder what the surviving bits would go for. Maybe enough to get off this planet.”

“Investigations first, Tyler,” Agrona reminded him, and he shot her a dirty look. Then, slowly, she turned to Allison. “You recognize it,” she said quietly.

“I, uh…” Allison struggled. “I’ve seen something like this in _Terminator_ , I think,” she lied.

“Get out,” Agrona snapped.

Allison stepped back, surprised. “What?”

“You want to keep secrets, I suppose that’s your right,” Agrona growled. “But don’t you stand there and lie to my face. Get the hell out of here. Take your friend home. Go home. Stay there. I’ll discuss this with your father later.”

Allison felt like she was going to shatter. She ducked her head and hurried away, grabbing Boyd’s arm on the way and pulling him toward the door.


	3. part 3

“Sir?” Deputy Graeme said, easing open the door of the sheriff’s office. “The files you requested from Costa Mesa are here.”

“Yes, thank you,” Sheriff Stilinski said, immediately standing to take them from her.

She eyed him suspiciously. “Sir…” she asked. “Can I ask what these files are for?”

“There was an anonymous tip,” he muttered. “There might have been a similar three-fold attack in Costa Mesa. I widened the parameters a bit to see if I could find a pattern.”

“According to them, you asked for the ‘X-files,’” Deputy Graeme told him.

The sheriff grimaced, caught. He leaned back in his chair and spread his hands. “I don’t know what to tell you, Tara,” he said. “I… I have to look at everything. I _need_ the answer to this.”

“I’m just worried,” she said. “You’re the best sheriff we’ve ever had, but… But there’s word that FBI agent isn’t coming _just_ to help with the investigation.”

Stilinski shook his head. “I can’t think about that right now,” he told her. “There’s a murderer out there. If I can stop it, then my job doesn’t really matter.”

Graeme nodded sympathetically. “That’s why you’re the best,” she said quietly. “Let me know if you need anything from me,” she told him before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

– –

On his way into the school for the recital, Scott’s phone began to ring. Deaton’s ringtone. Scott answered immediately. “Deaton, what’s going on?” he asked worriedly.

“The sheriff came to see me today,” Deaton explained. “We discussed my participation in this investigation. After that, I discussed the same issue with many of my friends. And then… And then I ran analytics anyway. I ran them multiple times. I even ran distorted values. I needed an answer to the sheriff’s question… How could we save Chee and humans at the same time?”

“You thought of something?” asked Scott.

“Yes,” said Deaton. “It finally occurred to me that, perhaps, Qezek was facing the same issue. Perhaps her choice of Chee was merely coincidence. So, at that point, I had to narrow down her definition of ‘philosopher’ to see _which_ Chee and _which_ humans she was choosing from. And I realized that her victims have something else in common. Belmonte was a volunteer tutor for underprivileged students.”

“Oh my god.” Scott turned toward the school, where hundreds of the students and staff members were filing inside. “They’re both teachers.”

Entering the auditorium, Scott walked straight into Lydia. “Oh, sorry!” he apologized immediately. Then… “I thought you were going home.”

She pouted for a moment, then admitted, “I can’t.” She turned to him. “I don’t know why I’m the one who keeps finding these bodies. But… maybe… if I just stop trying to fight it… I’d find them before it happens.” Scott was surprised to see the grief on her face as she spoke, but she continued, “Maybe with enough time for someone like you to do something about it.”

Gratitude swelled him. “You get me the time, I _swear_ I will do something about it,” he promised. “I swear to God, I _will_.”

Lydia watched him carefully, trying to decide if she believed him. Believed that he could. She nodded. Grateful, she clutched his hand for support.

– –

Sheriff Stilinski had no idea what he was looking for. These so-called “X-files” ran the gamut from “my child is acting strangely” to Elvis sightings and the worst part was that he no longer knew if he could dismiss any of them.

He sighed and picked up another folder. This one regarding an animal complaint.

Slowly, his eyes widened.

“Birds!”

– –

The pleasant music of the BHHS concert band floated through the auditorium while Lydia’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out and shook her head. “Text from Erica,” she whispered to Scott. “She says she has to see me _now_.”

Scott nodded. “Go,” he said. “If you feel anything, let me know.” She nodded and began to move toward the nearest side door. At that moment, Allison and Boyd entered behind him. He nodded at them. They didn’t look happy, but he supposed they weren’t supposed to. Stiles entered after them and, eventually, so did Isaac. Boyd and Isaac both took up lookout positions at the back of the auditorium while Stiles and Allison took aisle seats among the other attendees.

Meanwhile, Lydia wandered through the halls, trying to find Erica. She hesitated outside the English room. She walked in, looking around. Alone in the empty room, something felt terribly wrong.

Then… Then, she heard the chanting. The chanting that followed on the heels of death.

“You recognize it, don’t you?” said a familiar voice behind her.

Lydia spun, breathing hard. She was too shocked to speak. Ms. Blake didn’t wait for her to do so. She knocked Lydia unconscious.

Inside the auditorium, Scott’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see a text from Erica. _Sorry I can’t make it. Cora got hurt trying to find Kali. I’m guarding the hospital with Derek._

Scott’s eyes widened. His heart began to race. Immediately, Boyd and Isaac turned and gave him curious looks. “Can you hear me?” he whispered, and both nodded. “Lydia went out into the school because Erica asked her to meet her. But Erica just said she’s not even here. Get Stiles and Allison. We need to find Lydia _now_.”

Scott ran out. Isaac and Boyd began to push through the aisles, trying to reach Allison and Stiles. But, as they did, the orchestra began to speed up. Their music became frantic and screeching. One by one, the students began to start chanting. From her seat near the front, Ms. Morrell turned to look back at Scott’s team, worry evident on her face.

And then… Lydia **screamed**.

Scott raced across the campus, heading directly for the sound. The closer he got, the more certain he was. Oh god, the English room. Ms. Blake. The alphas hadn’t been the only ones to show up just before the murders started. So had Ms. Blake.

Screaming erupted in the auditorium as the school pianist fell dead from her bench, her throat slit open by some invisible force. Stiles and Allison raced toward the stage, Boyd and Isaac trying to push through the crowds to reach them.

In the English room, Lydia cried and whimpered as Ms. Blake held the knife at her throat, a tightened garrote holding her still. “DROP IT!” Sheriff Stilinski screamed, entering the room with his weapon raised. He wasn’t sure how well his pistol would do against a super-dense, super-advanced robot from an alien world, but he was ready to find out.

Blake didn’t hesitate. She threw the knife and stabbed him in the right pectoral. He cried out and dropped the gun. He stumbled, tripped, and fell to the floor which really just did not help the pain at all. This was it. He was going to die on the floor, and Lydia was going to die in that chair, and no one would be able to stop these murders.

“RRRRROOOOOOOOOWWRRR!”

The sheriff looked up at the classroom door. There stood Scott. It was definitely Scott. But he was covered in hair. His eyes glowed a furious yellow. There were fangs in his mouth. There were claws on his hands.

Werewolf vs. Alien

Scott raced across the room. He vaulted the desks. He launched himself at Ms. Blake, who merely stood there with her arms crossed and looking unamused. He broke his hand on her face.

Scott howled in pain, recoiling from her. She took the opportunity to thrust one hand straight at his chest. The power of the blow knocked him clear across the room. The sheriff was certain that he’d heard ribs crack. Scott fell to the floor, spat blood, and stilled.

Stiles arrived at the room, but Ms. Blake merely hit the desk in a similar manner, sliding it straight into the door and blocking Stiles’s path. She walked straight toward the sheriff, and he grabbed up his gun and aimed it at her. “It was you,” he said. “You were Julia. You were the robot that was found and brought to an auto-repair shop where thousands of birds subsequently threw themselves into the windows. Just like here.”

“Yes,” she said.

He shot her. The bullet ricocheted.

In a blink, she was in front of him. She swatted his gun from his hand, and searing pain shot up from his wrist. It was nothing compared to the way she then used the knife in his chest to haul him to his feet. She slammed him back into a set of stacked desks, and he cried out.

“DAD! DAD!” Stiles screamed on the other side of the door. Allison pulled him off the door.

Boyd and Isaac rammed into it at the same time, trying to move the desk. Both cried out in pain and fell down. “What the hell do they make the doors out of around here?” Boyd demanded.

“Fire retardant wood,” Allison said, pulling Isaac to his feet while Boyd got to his. “It’s very dense. But you moved it. You can do this! Try again!”

Boyd and Isaac gave each other knowing glances, then switched sides and shouldered the door again. Again, it only budged a few inches. But that was enough for scrawny Stiles. Screaming for his dad, he scrambled through the crack and over the desk and into the room.

It hadn’t been enough.

Jennifer Blake and Sheriff Stilinski had disappeared.


End file.
